The hand slipped.

Coins spilled from the belly of the torn stuffed doll's lower half.

"...!"

I hurriedly covered it up and pointlessly tried to stick the two pieces of the stuffed doll together.

"Brown?"

But of course, there was no response.

The upper body of the cotton doll just slid off the lower half.

"..."

No...

No. Maybe it's because I keep looking at it...!

"Brown."

I turned my head away, closed my eyes, and held the doll close to my ear.

Then...

-■■, ■■■■■...

"...!!"

I felt a vibration from the doll.

It was definitely a signal.

But it was very faint, crackling like a radio frequency that was accidentally brushed against.

'It's still there.'

It was still there. Then...

'Blood bath!'

Click, I immediately locked the train bathroom door. Then I pulled out a small bathtub with a checkered pattern and blonde hair from the tattoo on my wrist.

The so-called Bath of Youth.

Thud, the bathtub stood on the floor, and I carefully placed the nearly torn doll inside, and then...

I picked up the box cutter dropped by the passenger who had failed to attack and fainted.

I cut my forearm with it.

Blood flowed from the burst blood vessel.

'In an urgent situation like this, there's no alternative...!'

If I cut a human arm, they might wake up, or I might not be able to stop the bleeding.

'I can't stand an even more uncontrollable situation.'

My blood pours into the blood bath. The scent of wood and aromatic fragrance wafted up strongly.

Filled with bath salts, the doll starts to swell and grow larger...

It rejuvenates.

The fur of the stuffed doll becomes cleaner and shinier, and a mysterious light shines from its pebble-like eyes.

And it rapidly started to grow in size.

As if it had crossed some kind of threshold. The doll, soaked in bath salts, grows from keychain size to fill both hands.

Just like the original 'Good Friend' doll.

Pop.

The bowtie-shaped hair tie couldn't withstand the pressure and flew off, sticking to one side of the bathtub.

The change was that drastic.

But, but...

The doll was still quiet.

"..."

I held my breath and turned my head to listen to the doll again.

I couldn't hear the vibration I heard earlier.

The waist-cut stuffed doll was just floating on the fragrant bath salts of the blood bath...

"..."

I stared at the doll again.

The 'Good Friend' stuffed doll, which had grown large enough to fill the small blood bath, gleamed as if it had just been handcrafted by a master craftsman.

But it was still torn in half.

'Ah.'

The Bath of Youth, as the name suggests, restores youth... but doesn't heal wounds...

"..."

I actually knew this.

No, I knew, but it was more like I tried anyway...

The Good Friend stuffed doll was broken.

I took a deep breath.

'...It's okay.'

I can get another one.

Yes, I can get it from the original source, not from the goods box.

The Cheerful Theme Park is still there. The Good Friend stuffed doll was an item that could be obtained from the souvenir shop there.

'I had to go there anyway, so this is rather efficient.'

Let's get the Good Friend doll there. And then summon it again just like before...

...

"...Ha."

Let's not kid ourselves.

I already know.

The summoning method for 'Good Friend' doesn't call a specific entity, but 'someone from the reverse world'.

'There's no guarantee that the same entity will appear if I summon it again.'

No, it would be strange if the same thing was summoned in the same way.

I read <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration> for the fun of seeing different entities appear with each summoning record.

'Haha,'

Ha...

"..."

At this point, I had to admit.

Regardless of mental contamination, I had grown quite attached to this strange stuffed doll...

'But I couldn't help it, could I?'

Because it truly was a 'Good Friend'.

A friend who encourages when times are tough, gets angry together when you're angry, has deep conversations, and chats while watching variety shows late at night.

A friend who puts me first without calculation.

That's the kind of friend you can only meet in school when you're young...

"..."

Right.

Let's do what we can.

"Should I try sewing it?"

If that doesn't work, I could look for repair items, or enter a ghost story that repairs objects... there were many things I could try after searching for information.

For the sake of my mental state, too.

"Let's do it."

I've calmed down a bit.

My mind, which had been overly flustered by the unexpected event, regained composure and started to calculate.

'First, let's clean up.'

I reached into the blood bath and pulled out Brown's upper and lower body, which were dangling.

And just as I was about to roughly organize the cotton and store the doll...

'Huh?'

I noticed a flapping piece of cloth on the back of the stuffed doll.

A small square of silk sewn into the line connecting the head and body.

'...A tag?'

It seemed that what had appeared as a trace in the blood bath last time had fully returned with this bath.

'The Good Friend's... product label?'

You know, those things. The ones that show the origin, washing instructions, care methods, or even the buyer's or maker's signature.

I unconsciously looked at it.

It certainly had the specifications and format of a label, with unknown characters written in tiny, strange lines.

However, there was something overwhelmingly noticeable above all that information.

Like a censorship, large letters scrawled in black marker over all that information.

Label removal required

[Ah.]

[Here it is.]

Thud.

A huge hand snatched the tag.

It's a hand wearing stylish formal gloves.

The thumb covers the letters on the label so they're almost invisible and pulls on the tag.

[Found it.]

That hand.

It was emerging from inside the halved 'Good Friend' doll I was holding.

Crack.

As the lower half of the doll splits open, an arm completely emerges from inside, followed by a shoulder, and then the other arm forcefully comes out to grip the sink.

Finally, the rest of the enormous body pours out, filling the small bathroom.

A huge body dressed in a stylish brown three-piece suit, long legs, black lace-up shoes worn underneath, and...

Instead of a head, a CRT television.

A smile.

[ ]

The giant CRT TV head that had squeezed out of the completely destroyed doll's lower half tilts towards me.

[Sol-eum!]

The head shakes.

The host is gripping my shoulder.

[My, you must have been very worried about me. Haha! You don't need to worry anymore. Well... your reliable host, Brown, has come here!]

The ghost story host waves the tag between his fingers. The tattered upper half of the stuffed doll dangles and swings.

[Ah, restoring this tag was truly an excellent choice! Thanks to this, I was able to find my way here. Phew.]

[Oh, I won't refuse admiration, praise, and applause... but, haha, humbly speaking, this was only possible because I had just finished a live broadcast rehearsal.]

[Anyway, we've met again so quickly!]

"..."

[Sol-eum?]

What is this?

[...You don't look very happy. Hmm... Ah, is it because this cotton doll is broken? Yes. The audience is always affected by what they see... That's right!]

Snap.

The host snaps his fingers.

[How about this?]

The emoticon disappears from the TV head.

Instead, something trudges out from inside the screen.

...A Good Friend rabbit doll wearing a bowtie.

[There, your friend in a cotton-stuffed body! How about it, isn't it still cute even in my screen? Oh, it's waving.]

"The Good Friend is..."

[Yes. It's right here. Your Good Friend! Me, Brown!]

No.

"The Good Friend is..."

"supposed to be a doll."

...

[Sol-eum.]

Click.

A pinpoint light illuminates the cramped studio space that was once a bathroom.

Now the spotlight shines on the legendary host and me.

I can't turn my head.

[You seemed rather passive, but I see you were under a big misunderstanding... That's alright. I shouldn't say this myself, but the one before you now is a very kind and capable show host.]

[As always, I have quite a knack for explanations. Now...]

The gloved hand properly picks up the broken doll instead of the tag.

The Good Friend rabbit doll that was broadcasting on the TV screen attached instead of a head suddenly disappears, replaced by a smiling emoticon.

And then...

Whoosh.

...The Good Friend plush doll in the host's hand.

Was incinerated.

[This is nothing.]

Tap tap, with each flick of the host's hand, less than a handful of ashes scatter from the gloves onto the floor.

I stared at it blankly.

But.

'It wasn't just about imbuing part of it into the doll, to make it like a friend...'

[Now... let's recall. How did you summon your friend?]

...

A strange object that invites someone from the reverse world, allowing part of their spirit to dwell in a doll to make it a friend.

So,

I used a plush doll, a necktie, and a coin to...

[Invite me.]

The host points to himself.

[Does a dinner date get canceled just because the phone breaks? Do bills disappear if you destroy the mailbox? Do lovers break up if you tear up a love letter? We already know the answer.]

[No!]

[Then... here's the question.]

[Will your invitation be canceled just because you destroy the doll?]

The host spreads his arms.

[Of course not!]

Ah.

[What you've done is an eternal ritual. Oh, yes...]

"..."

My stiff mind slowly formulates a sentence.

'So,'

The Good Friend ritual wasn't about summoning only part of a non-human being and trapping it in a doll to make it a friend.

It was just that the being was only partially revealed, filtered through the plush doll.

Like a children's roleplay.

[Do you still want to call this ritual a friend? If so, I've become your eternal friend. Sol-eum! Ah, what wonderful words, eternal friendship!]

The emoticon on the TV head briefly displays a teary-eyed expression before returning to a smiling face.

[And our MVP participant, impeccable timing as always! It's a perfect time. Sol-eum...]

The hand on my shoulder pats my back encouragingly.

And says.

[Preparations for a new talk show are complete.]

"...!"

[New staff, new set, new music, new season... all filming preparations are done. My humble talk show solely for the audience's enjoyment.]

[I'm delighted to introduce your new workplace...]

No.

I reflexively stepped back.

I need to open the door and get out, escape this spotlight, clear my head, think...

[Oh my.]

The smiling emoticon disappears from the TV head.

No.

The screen went black.

[You said you were a fan of my show and were so happy just to apply as a participant, but now you're trying to run away from the chance to become part of the talk show? After all my advice, help, and total support and dedication, you make such a choice.]

[Sol-eum, weren't friends supposed to have a mutually complementary relationship? This emotional and one-sided rejection! I-I... feel hurt.]

I feel like throwing up.

"S-Sorry..."

[Oh my! There's no need to apologize for that. Sol-eum. Thoughtless apologies aren't a virtue needed by show creators.]

[And I'm always a host who can read and understand the other person's inner thoughts and feelings...]

[So.]

The next moment.

[This Brown will sincerely try to persuade you.]

Wide open.

The screen fills with smiling emoticons.

Filling.

Completely filled.

"Wait..."

But the giant CRT TV head comes closer and closer.

Closer.

Even.

Closer.

[Now...]

'Look at me.'